


Kiss My Pain Away

by sabbathgoat



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019), The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band Book - Mötley Crüe & Neil Strauss
Genre: AS pain, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Back Problems, Bar Fight, Biting, Blood, Bottom Mick Mars, Cuddling, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massages, Mentions of Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Naked Cuddling, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranoia, Praise Kink, Protective Nikki Sixx, Smut, but he cares, nikki is a maniac
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22791535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabbathgoat/pseuds/sabbathgoat
Summary: (Request prompt: the band helping Mick through AS pain.)A glimpse through the years at how each member of Motley Crue chooses to be there for Mick Mars and the pain of his disease. A protective bass player, overly caring drummer, and softhearted singer was all the family Mick had ever known. And it was all he ever wanted.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars/Vince Neil, Tommy Lee/Mick Mars
Comments: 14
Kudos: 50





	1. Nikki- 1984

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of stories in which each chapter explores Mick's developing relationship with his band, and how they sometimes worry a little too much for him. Each chapter will be with a different year, story, and member of Motley! Hope you guys enjoy <3

**Nikki**

**1984**

Mick Mars knew he should have just fucking stayed home. He really shouldn't even have gotten out of bed that morning to begin with. The day was cursed from the start, and to top it all off in a fiery shitshow he currently found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The rock being a six foot four inches tall guy who was drunk as a skunk, and the hard place being the bar table of their most favorite club. It was about to either keep that title, or quickly become locally known as the bar that banned Motley Crue.

_"Look, I wasn't trying anything,"_ Mick was trying his best to keep his cool. The guy was inches from him, pinning Mick against the counter and not even bending down a centimeter to face the guitarist. Mick's hands were up innocently, bottle of vodka in one, and he craned his neck to look up at the motherfucker.

It had all started when Tommy had shoved some blonde bitch into Mick's lap. She was drunk like the rest of them and Mick was pretty sure she was the one that had snorted a line right off Nikki's ass just a few minutes prior. Her hands were all over Mick, testing the waters and begging for any kind of action from the mysterious guitar player of Motley Crue. Mick had kept denying her everything, barely looking at her zoned out face. He had just wanted to sit alone at the bar and drink his night away before he had to drag an unconscious bandmate back to their hotel.

She never took the fucking hint. Which didn't help Mick's case, since apparently the bitch _just_ so happened to be the pissed off guy's girlfriend.

"Didn't fucking _look_ like nothing," He all but spat in Mick's face. A small crowd had gathered around them to watch in anticipation for a fight that the older man was destined to lose. Mick wouldn't stand a damn chance, and everyone in the room knew it. He looked away from the furious eyes burning into him to try and see where the fuck his three idiots had ran away to- maybe they would back him up and get the dude off Mick's toes. But of course, they were nowhere to be seen.

_"Hey!"_ The guy shouted in Mick's face. _"I'm fucking talking to you, you old prick!"_ He aggressively ripped the bottle from Mick's hands and smashed it on the table next to him, glass and alcohol exploding around them. Mick didn't flinch.

He'd officially had enough of this shit. His back hurt like hell from the table ledge digging into it and that fucking bottle costed him way too much goddamn money.

_"Alright listen up you fucking asshole, I SAID I didn't touch your fucking slut of a girlfriend! Now get the fuck out of my face before I rip yours off,"_ He snarled.

It did nothing to get the guy away, of course.

"That's it. You're fucking _dead_. I'm gonna skin you alive and hang your old ass up to fucking _dry_ -" Mick could only stare at the huge fist raised high above his head, and prepared to lose every tooth in his jaw.

But before he was pounded to a forgotten pulp, a flash of shining leather and wild mane of obsidian hair came from nowhere, and with a loud crack the dude was stumbling back into the audience that had formed.

Nikki stood between Mick and the drunk bastard. 

_"Don't fucking touch him asshole!"_ He screamed louder than Mick had ever heard before.

Said asshole stumbled to catch his balance as he wiped his nose, and sure enough a glorious fountain of blood was pouring from his mouth and nostrils. He looked down at his red coated hand in both shock and fear, but fury quickly took over again.

_"I'm gonna fucking kill you bastards!"_ He screamed, and it was like a damn lion's roar. Mick saw Nikki clench his fists, square his shoulders, start a growl deep in his throat. The massive guy in front of them did nearly the same thing, but as he took a launch forward Nikki beat him to the punch.

_Literally_.

The bass player's fist met the dude's jaw, and Mick almost felt sorry for the clueless fucker. Nikki had no doubt been riding a high on a cocaine jet all night, and the pent up adrenaline coursing through his veins was a force that really shouldn't be let lose in the form of aggression. Judging by the sound it made when his knuckles obliterated the guy's mouth, Mick knew that he wasn't the one losing teeth that night. He stayed stock still in his spot against the bar table, watching the big oaf swing his uncoordinated fists around trying to punch Nikki back, but the bassist was ten times too fast and prepared. Nikki swung on his head again, this time cracking the guy's cheek clean open. The crowd around them exploded in cheers and applause, screaming praise of _'beat that motherfucker, kick the guy's ass, fucking kill him!'_ As they moved around to give the two more room.

Tommy suddenly flew in on a fucking freight train from the right, screaming hollers of approval as he too took a joy ride in pummeling the asshole down to the floor. They screamed wild laughs that could spook hyenas off as they went to town with punch after punch, and when the motherfucker hit the floor, their boots hit his ribs. Cracks, smacks, echos of snaps, it all blended in with the wailing crowd as Tommy and Nikki went for the kill. Nikki ripped away a bottle that was held out to them from the onlookers and smashed it easily over the guy's skull, sending glass flying in a hundred pieces and soaking his hair in beer.

_"Let's kill this motherfucker!"_ Tommy screamed through fits of high laughter. Mick knew he probably didn't even know why they were fighting the guy, but he didn't need to. If anyone from Motley Crue was in a fight with someone, the rest would join in with no questions asked. 

Over and over, they left not a second to spare as they beat the life right out of the guy. He was trying to grab at their legs, but stood no chance against Nikki and Tommy's inhuman speed. Tommy finally smashed a foot down on one of his hands, cracking every finger under his heels. The asshole screamed like a fucking pig, and Mick just laughed. Nikki grabbed a fist full of his bloodied hair suddenly and yanked the dude's head up to pose next to his destroyed face, throwing up the horns with his free hand and screaming at the crowd. They cheered as loud as they could. Mick could feel his skeleton rattle with the energy and noise and jumping people all around him. There was another bottle pressed gently against his shoulder from the bartender behind him, and Mick took it with a thankful smile before turning to watch the rest of the fight.

He knew what was coming next, but still grinned widely when Nikki yanked the asshole's arm up and bit a chunk right out of his skin. The blood curdling scream that erupted from the guy's throat made him and Tommy cheer with joy. Blood spurted between Nikki's lips, and when he pulled away his teeth were stained crimson and a long string of blood followed his mouth. The guy was still screaming on the floor trying to kick himself away, but the Terror Twins were done.

_"Get this motherfucker out of my sight before I kill him!"_ Nikki screamed through a mouthful of blood.

Mick and Tommy stared at him as the crowd fell a little silent, only a few drunk idiots still laughing at the show. The locals had definitely seen bar fights before. Most likely never a grown man bite hard enough to leave a scar and then revel in the bloodbath, however. They had most _definitely_ never met Nikki Sixx when he was pissed off. Nikki walked like a wild animal over to Mick, heads turning to watch, and the guitarist felt a twitch of fear send goosebumps over his skin at the sight. His panting mouth was still coated in red and dripping bloody drool over his chest and onto the floor as he stopped only inches in front of Mick.

_"Mick-"_ he starred, but was both too exhausted and too pumped up to finish his sentence.

"Nikki..." Mick apparently couldn't finish one either.

_"What the fuck was that, holy shit!"_ Vince was suddenly beside them, laughing like a maniac and grabbing Nikki's shoulder. Nikki turned to him with a devilish crimson smile, and Vince lost his drunken mind at how ' _badass_ ' his friend looked. "Dude we gotta do that again for a fucking photoshoot!" He and Tommy smacked each other in excitement as they took off into the crowd again. Mick expected Nikki to follow, perhaps the three would go see who else needed to be taught a lesson- but he didn't. He stayed standing in front of the guitar player with an odd look in his eyes.

"Hey thanks, Nikki," Mick finally broke the silence between them over the crowd that had lost interest and started to wind up again.

Nikki kept staring at him.

Mick attempted to take a step to the side to put some space between himself and the nasty mess that his bassist was currently dripping all over. Nikki's arm shot out before he could even put his foot back on the ground, gripping his arm over his leather jacket just a little too tight.

" _Mick_ ," He tried again. He swallowed, and Mick cringed. _"Mick, are you okay?"_ He finally sighed out with a terribly hoarse voice.

Mick watched him for a minute, looking at the blood still pooling in his friends gaping mouth. 

"Fuck, come on," He finally said and took Nikki's wrist in his hand, abandoning his new drink on the counter. Nikki let himself be guided through the hot crowd and into the men's bathroom, the guitarist locking the door behind them. The sudden silence of the room rang in both of their ears, and Nikki pawed in confusion at his own through his wild hair. Mick took him over to the sinks, turned the cold water on, and put a hand on Nikki's shoulder. 

"Come on, rinse your fucking mouth out," He ordered. Nikki listened. With unsteady hands, he managed to spend the next three minutes filling his filthy palms with water and fumbling to put it in his mouth. He was trying his hardest to please Mick, and couldn't seem to understand why his hands wouldn't work like he wanted them to. His fingers kept opening every time he tried to raise them to his mouth, losing all the water he tongued desperately for. Mick eventually gave up watching the doped out younger man struggle when no progress was made, and pulled him away slightly. "Okay, enough, hold still," Mick held Nikki's shoulder steady and cupped his own free hand under the faucet, gathering as much of the questionable water as he could and bringing it to Nikki's mouth. The bassist hummed in approval as he eagerly bent down and shoved his mouth into it, taking in what he could and spilling the rest over his chin. He spit the remains into the sink like he was asked, quickly staining the cracked porcelain pink.

They did that seven times, until Nikki's mouth was finally clear of that bastard's blood and he was soon dunking his head into the nasty sink under the water to desperately drink what he could reach.

Mick moved to the other sink to wash his bloodied hands, grimacing at the disaster. Nikki made odd groaning noises as he slurped loudly at the water before finally pulling away and wiping his face with a wet sigh. He remembered to turn the sink off as he wiped his lips dry, and Mick wondered if his high was coming down.

"You good?" He asked nervously. Nikki looked up at him with his gorgeous doe eyes, and Mick knew that he was for sure sobering up.

"Are _you_ good?" He asked as well, voice full of panic.

"What? You're the one that just beat a two hundred pound dude to the ground," Mick took a step closer to him, pulling a wet strand of hair out of Nikki's mouth. The bass player sighed with furrowed brows as he looked at Mick as if he was speaking gibberish.

"He would have killed you..."

Mick looked on with confusion in his gaze.

"He like, was gonna beat your ass," Nikki clarified.

"I know..." Mick mumbled, still not understanding.

_"Your_ _back_... _"_ Nikki's depressed whine and teary eyes finally put two and two together.

"Oh..." Mick whispered. Nikki kept staring at him. "Yeah, uh," Mick didn't know how to move forward. Nikki had only mentioned his back one time before in the first year that they had met.

_"You can't fight, and he was about to kick your ass, and-"_ Nikki had to stop to catch his labored breath.

"Nikki, it's okay," Mick would usually be offended at anyone telling him he was too old or weak to win a fight, but he had other concerns to handle. Nikki was crying now.

_"Fuck, I can't lose you-"_ He hiccuped. _"I had to save you!"_ Two hands suddenly gripped Mick's jacket with iron fists so fast that he jumped slightly.

_"Nikki, calm down, it's okay,"_ Mick whispered. It did little in soothing Nikki's aggressive sobs as he buried his face in Mick's hair in a crooked hug. Mick held him close as Nikki cried against him. The younger man moaned a terrible sound with no pleasure in his voice as thick tears ruined his makeup. _"Shhhh,"_ Mick cooed softly against his bass player's ear.

Nikki eventually did calm down enough to catch his hitched breath and pull away from the tight embrace.

_"Fuck, I'm sorry,"_ He wiped at his eyes with shaking fingers. Mick couldn't stand the sight; he had never seen Nikki so torn up about anything in his life...

"Nikki, it's okay, you got nothing to be sorry for dude. You did save my ass back there," Mick smoothed the bangs hanging over his friend's face. "You did good kid, you did good..." He didn't know what else to say to the unstable bassist.

Nikki groaned in frustration as he bit back another cry. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and gripped Mick's shoulders again with trembling hands.

_"Y-Your back prolly hurts s' bad,"_ He stuttered around the sentence.

"It's fine," Mick whispered while petting his hair again. That seemed to calm him down enough. _"It's okay,"_ His voice grew even softer.

Nikki's snotty breaths finally subsided into normal breathing through his stuffy nose, and he drooped forward to rest his forehead against the side of Mick's neck.

_"I love you,"_ he mumbled against Mick's black hair.

"I love you too Nikki," Mick held a gentle hand on the back of his bandmate's head in this thick hair. The other rubbed soothing circles over his spine that enticed a shiver from Nikki.

"Sorry your back hurts so bad Mickey..."

"Don't worry about it," Mick turned his head to kiss Nikki's. 

"I gotta worry, it's my job... You're my Mick Mars, I gotta look out for you," A yawn finished anything else Nikki was going to say. Mick stood silently for a few minutes, lost in thought and trying to figure out how put all the emotions he was feeling into one package that he could pick up 

"Well, you're the first," His joke utterly failed and died with his nervous laughter. Nikki pulled away to gaze down into his baby blue eyes.

"I shouldn't be... I'm sorry that I am. Hope 'm not the last," He breathed with a stolen glance down at Mick's lips. The guitarist didn't need to think about it as he tilted his head up ever so slightly to offer silent approval. Nikki bent down and kissed him on the lips, and Mick wasn't prepared for how gentle it was. Full of nothing but love, he tongued at Mick's and sucked on his bottom lip with a small bite to the skin. Maybe if Mick was just a little bit more sober, he wouldn't dare let the bassist kiss him with a mouth that had been through a bar fight bloodbath... But he wasn't, so he did.

He kissed Nikki back with all the built up emotion he'd been brewing in a pot since they'd gotten to the club, and hoped that his kiss was a clear enough _thank you_ for his bandmate. Judging by Nikki's eager moan when he licked across the younger's bottom lip, it may have been.

They parted after an unknown amount of time to catch their breath, and Nikki held Mick's face in his filthy hands.

_"I'll take care of you, I promise..."_ Nikki whispered. 

Part of Mick wanted to believe him. And maybe in some alternate universe, he could. But their world was just a little too fucked up for that- Mick's back was unfixable no matter what, and Nikki was so dependent on drugs that he could barely take care of himself. It was a recipe for disaster.

But disaster was no stranger to Motley Crue. They did find beauty the hell that was their life after all, right? So maybe he could believe it, at least for one night.


	2. Nikki- 2005

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikki and his post-show worry.

**Nikki**

**2005**

"You okay?"

The seventh time. It was the seventh time in half an hour that Nikki Sixx had asked Mick Mars if he was a okay. They had spent the chaotic day doing interviews, then began their pre-show rituals with a few hours to kill, totally rocked a perfect concert somewhere in the UK, and now found themselves in the changing rooms fresh off the stage at one in the morning. Or, at least, Mick and Nikki found themselves in Mick's changing room. The bass player didn't have to ask anymore- he just followed closely behind Mick, and Mick would hold the door open for him. It was a new thing they had started doing since their reunion. Nikki would all but latch on to one of the other three and hang out in their dressing rooms after concerts. Never before them, however, as he was kind enough to give personal space when it was most needed. He knew that if he started bugging around Vince before they went on, he'd get his overly-lovey ass handed to him.

Mick sat on the small leather couch, shedding his heavy jacket with a much needed yawn as he tossed it over the armrest and leaned back with a tired groan. He tried to ignore Nikki's repeated question to maybe get it through the guy's head that he was a grown man capable of taking care of himself (even if he hadn't been just a short time ago), but gave in and answered only a few seconds later.

"Nikki, I'm fine." He couldn't turn his head to see his pacing bassist across the small room making laps around the couch, but knew his whole playing mother hen deal wasn't going to stop any time soon. So he gave the younger man what he wanted. Or more so, what he _needed_.

"You sure?" Nikki finally pulled over from his stress ride to sit right against Mick on the sofa.

That made Mick finally turn his body the best he could in the suddenly crowded space to look Nikki up in the eyes.

He didn't need to say anything. His stern eyes and sly smirk spoke it all. They said something like, _'Yes I know I screwed up pretty bad back then, but we're together now and you don't have to worry anymore. I'm okay again.'_

Nikki could hear it.

"Sorry..." He ducked his head with a sheepish grin and ran a hand through his untamed hair to itch nervously at his scalp. "I just... worry. About everything now. I feel like a mother," he giggled. A stressful sigh escaped him as the hand rubbing his head moved to paw over his eyes. "I worry so much about losing you again- _all of us,_ I mean." He visibly winced at his slip and attempt to cover it up. Nikki was silent after that, probably hoping that his guitarist wouldn't comment on it, or maybe not even catch it. But while Mick may be older, he was still smarter.

"I know. I'm sorry too..." Mick was hoping Nikki wouldn't hear his whisper either. It was cooked with depressive regret and sprinkled with embarrassment. They had had this talk a few times before- the one about Mick being on his deathbed because he thought he had nothing left to live for and no one was there to tell him otherwise. Because the pain in his spine and hips had grown unbearable. Because his neck had finally succumbed to his disease and he couldn't even turn his head to the left or right, and he felt like a fucking fossil. All the drugs he'd drowned himself in, with no one there to save him from the waves. And how Nikki _still_ had nightmares about being just a few days too late, and finding a much more different scene at Mick's home...

They had talked about it before, but it never got any easier. Mick looked down to the floor, wishing he could lean his head back and just stare at the ceiling.

"Hey," Nikki finally mumbled after a few moments. He sat up straighter and turned to face him. "You got nothing to be sorry for. We all fucked up big time, but we fixed our mistakes. I'm just sorry that we left you alone, and you were like..." Nikki still couldn't say it outright like it was nothing. So he settled for shaking his head to rattle loose those terrible thoughts, jumping ship and changing the subject. " _Nevermind_." He knew Mick hated talking about it more than he did.

Nikki stood up suddenly and took the sweaty bandana off his head, going over by the door to toss his jacket onto the coat rack, then kicked his shoes off. Mick smirked at the sight, just a little humored by the thought of how much their concert getup had changed since the 80s. They were both dressed just casually enough that if it weren't for the heavy eyeliner, they could probably stroll right into the grocery store. He leaned forward to pull his platform boots off as well and kicked them out of the way. His bass player flopped back on the couch right next to him with a grunt and lifted a leg to drape it over Mick's lap.

" _Want a back rub?"_ Nikki asked softly with a hand suddenly stroking Mick's hair.

" _No_ ," Mick growled and was about to smack the hand away, but hesitated. Nikki had hardly touched him outside of much too gentle hugs since they reunited, and this was something entirely new he wasn't expecting himself to be comfortable with. But... He was. It felt nice. _Really_ fucking nice. Mick's hand was suspended in the air just inches above his lap ready to push his friend off, but there it remained for a moment before resting instead on Nikki's tibia. He thumbed over his tight, torn pants ever so slightly- unsure of how exactly to show his friend physical affection outside of being drunk. But it was enough to earn a gorgeous smirk from the younger man that Mick didn't see but could easily feel radiate next to him.

Mick eventually closed his eyes as Nikki continued working on running his fingers through his tangled dark hair, smoothing it out and pulling lightly to see how far past his shoulders it would reach. The smirk exposing his teeth eventually faded away as Nikki reminisced about the time when Mick's hair went nearly to his waist. He remembered a few different occasions of getting high out of his mind and trying to braid as much of it as he could, before Mick would wake up from his hangover and all but cut his hands right off. Now Nikki held the un-teased strands between his fingers, eventually halting his massaging as he stared at where the ends had been chopped off after those years of abandonment. He wondered that if Motley hadn't gone through so many breakups, so much heartache, so many failures, and if Nikki hadn't left Mick all alone in the dust to die, would it still be that long?

Mick's own hand on his bandmate's leg stilled after noticing Nikki go motionless, and could feel the pained gaze of his friend burning holes into his head.

"Nikki?" Mick wanted to turn to look at him, but couldn't find the leverage under the heavy weight of Nikki's leg over his.

_"Oh, shit, sorry,"_ Nikki retracted his hand and quickly moved to sit facing forward again. Mick's lap felt much too empty and light all of the sudden without Nikki's leg draped over it.

Mick finally angled himself to the side to face him. He didn't like what he saw- Nikki was staring off at the wall and judging from the emotions swimming in his blue eyes, Mick knew there was torment running rapid in his head. So after a full minute of staring and Nikki not blinking more than three times, he made a decision he was hoping to avoid.

"You can."

"Hmm?" Nikki turned his head to look at Mick. The hurt he was trying to hide was so visible to Mick, he felt his old heart skip a beat.

"You can rub my back. I'd like it," he whispered up at him. Mick was only half lying; he knew he wouldn't enjoy it as much as Nikki was thinking he would- but he wasn't doing it for himself. He was doing it for Nikki. It wouldn't exactly make Mick feel a hundred times better, but it would his bass player. And that was reason enough.

Nikki cracked a crooked grin and quickly turned to grab a pillow from the other side of the couch. He swung it around to toss into Mick's lap, standing up with a small laugh. 

"Sweet, lay down handsome," He stretched with a loud yawn and rubbed his hands together while Mick did as he was told.

Mick never usually laid on his stomach for obvious reasons, but he made an exception in hopes that whatever Nikki was planning would actually work. He took his hat off and tossed it to the coffee table as he laid flat on his front with his legs stretched out on the sofa behind him. He tucked the small pillow under his chest so his head comfortably hung over it while doing his best to bite back the groan of pain. When he found a spot after a few adjustments that didn't trigger any intolerable stretching or burning, Nikki made haste in taking his spot straddling his older friend's ass. His legs bent on either side of Mick's waist while he wiggled slightly to sit his full weight down. Mick moaned long and deep in his chest at the sound of Nikki giggling and cracking his knuckles. He brought his own tattooed arms forward to cross over the pillow, holding it close and giving his chin something to rest on.

_"Prepare for the best fucking massage of your life, old man,"_ he mumbled through a wide grin.

Mick stayed silent and closed his eyes. He doubted the words, but didn't feel like totally destroying Nikki's still-healing heart. The amused smirk that pulled at his lips, however, was quickly wiped away when Nikki actually started touching him.

Two firm hands gently pressed their heels into his shoulder blades. It would have fucking killed him any other time- hell, he was expecting the searing pain that always came with it immediately after- but the way Nikki rolled them around and put just the right amount of pressure at just the right time- it moved muscles Mick thought would never move again. He repeated the motion, and the pleasure that spilled in his shoulders and tricked down into his chest was something Mick hadn't felt in _ages_. The aching in his spine above his ribs that had tormented him nearly all his life suddenly died away to nearly nothing. Nikki gingerly rolled the sides of his hands on either side of his spine again, then moved his fingers to push down perfectly above his scapulas. Nikki didn't dare go deep, and how he knew just what exactly to do, Mick had no fucking clue.

Mick's mouth hung agape as his eyes stared wide with shock unfocused at the cushion of the couch. His back hadn't felt this little pain in, well... he couldn't remember how old he had been since this relief was had without the aid of a pill.

Nikki hummed something, probably a new tune, softly as he scratched his nails in long strokes up and down Mick's back. He went down to his ass right next to Nikki's thighs, then all the way up into his hair line. By the third time he did it, Mick couldn't stop the shiver that quivered his frame. His hands gripped the pillow in an iron hold that made Nikki pause.

"Fuck, sorry, is it hurting?" His miracle hands pulled away and Mick almost cried out.

"No, _fuck no_ \- Nikki, what the hell, where did you learn this?" He sucked in a gasp.

Nikki giggled as he continued. This time he started kneading Mick's sides over his protruding ribs, feeling just a little bit sad that they were still rather visible even through his shirt.

"I _may_ or may not have done my research," he whispered. His fingers pulled over the skin, moving up and down to stretch the muscles out.

Mick was going to comment because fucking hell, not a single person other than himself had ever cared that much- but his body was jelly. His wooden spine relaxed as much as it physically could, and while impossible Mick swore he felt it bend a little.

" _Fuck_ ," he breathed in a heavy exhale. Nikki laughed at it, and hummed through the teeth biting his lower lip.

"I'm glad I can help you out, Mars," he mumbled lovingly. "I always see you hurting and it kills me that I can't do anything..."

"No, you are-" Mick was cut off by a pleasured groan when Nikki pressed into his lower back just soft enough to stretch out the unused muscles there. "This is the best I've felt in like, thirty years..."

"Well fuck, I'm glad," Nikki bent down and planted a kiss on his spine. "Can I go under your shirt?" He asked shyly. 

_"Fuck yeah,"_ Mick breathed. 

Nikki slid Mick's shirt up to his nipples, and dragged his fingertips with just a little pressure from there down to each side of his ribcage, then in a loop above his ass to circle back around to his shoulders. Mick moaned louder than Nikki had ever heard- well, not counting the time back in 1986 when he'd sat outside Mick's bedroom door and listened to him have sex with whatever girlfriend he'd had at the time. He was so desperately in love with his older guitar player back then, and was pretty sure he had touched himself while eavesdropping on the guy's sex life but chose to believe he didn't. Endless nights of sulking over Mick, the man he couldn't ever have because the time would just never be right enough... Nikki was a fucking demon back then, and as he sat upon his lost love's body massaging his broken back, he found himself losing a few tears. They rolled down his cheeks, and Nikki was grateful that crying could be so silent. Mick had no idea about his friend's slipping control over too many emotions to keep in one bucket without overflowing. Ever since he'd gotten sober and Motley reunited through those troubling times, Nikki had grown overly emotionally attached to each one of them. Even so much as thinking about those unfair, drug addicted wild times they had made it through together got him worked up.

He tried to inhale as silently as he could without giving away his stuffing nose, but was pretty sure he failed and Mick knew he was crying. So he decided to be better safe than sorry and distracted his guitarist with another soft tissue massage over his shoulders. Mick's muffled moan earned the younger man a bittersweet grin, so Nikki did it again through blurring vision. 

_"Love you, old man,"_ Nikki's voice cracked through the thick whisper. He was grateful that Mick didn't comment on it. Mick always knew what to say to him, especially if that something was nothing at all... Nikki just wished that he had been more grateful and accepting of it back then, instead of panicking and pushing Mick away so much to go hide behind drugs that eventually the guitarist gave up trying to save him.

" _Love you too, Nikki."_ Mick was riding on the edge of blissful sleep, unable to keep his heavy eyes open under the painless cloud he was drifting away on. Nikki continued rubbing his back in repetitive motions over his body, feeling his bare skin, memorizing its feeling and all the little freckles that kissed his body.

Hearing Mick say he loved him for the first time in many, many years was enough to stop Nikki's aching heart for a moment in time.

_"And any time you need or want to see me- you know where I'm at."_ Mick continued in nearly a whisper. He yet again wished he could turn his head around to look Nikki in the eyes, but settled for lifting a hand above his shoulder as far back as it would reach. Nikki understood and quickly took it in his, and together with intertwined fingers they rested upon Mick's shoulder blade. Nikki leaned forward to squeeze himself between Mick's body and the back of the couch. The guitarist moaned at the lost massage, but was just unconscious enough to still feel the ghost of touches over his skin. Nikki rested his face on the seat cushion next to Mick's arm, gazing up at his closed eyes through the mess of hair hanging between them.

He held Mick's hand with the arm draped over his shoulders as he watched Mick slip away into a peaceful slumber. His heart probably started beating again, considering he was still alive and breathing- but it felt like it was frozen solid with untamed love. And that felt a _lot_ fucking better than freezing up from an overdose. Or from when Mick had opened his front door all those years ago, hanging onto the last string of life.

Nikki closed his eyes and patiently awaited for sleep to claim his exhausted brain. They had nowhere to be, no one to see. He didn't give a fuck who was looking for them- he wasn't about to leave Mick's side for anything. And he only hoped he could say that for the rest of their time together on Earth. 


	3. Tommy- 1982

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of hot sex with his drummer almost ended in perfect bliss, but of course Mick's back had other plans. He underestimates how deep Tommy's love for him runs, however.

**Tommy**

**1982**

_"Hey. Someone told me last night that our guitarist was too old to hang with us and should get his old ass replaced."_ Tommy giggled into Mick's ear with cherry red lips pressed against the skin, whispering through the black mane of hair.

 _"Oh really?"_ Mick had been enjoying the most peaceful afternoon he'd had in months, sitting on the worn down sofa of their shared living room and restringing one of his guitars. He had since finished his work and abandoned the instrument to bathe in the last hours of sunlight as the gorgeous orange glow of Hollywood faded away. He'd been dozing off while thinking up new tunes idly in his mind when the drummer had walked up behind him and bent over the couch to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek before speaking softly into his ear.

Mick couldn't see Tommy behind him, but that was alright because just a second later the younger man sprang over the back of the sofa to sit right against Mick with an arm slung possessively over his shoulders.

"Can you guess what I did?" He grinned through a rough bite to his thick bottom lip. Mick stared at him for a minute, pretending to think of an answer as he instead just took in the gorgeous man only inches from his face. He admired Tommy's bright pink blush, crimson painted lips, the tip of his tongue teasing his teeth, and wild waves of hair framing his perfectly chiseled face. There was a wild spark of life burning in his brown eyes that Mick knew usually meant he had a very specific plan brewing in his head. And if Mick was right, he knew what was coming.

 _"Gonna answer or just stare at my lips, old man?"_ Tommy giggled after a minute and leaned in slowly to press a soft, teasing kiss to Mick's lips. The guitarist's eyes fluttered shut for a moment before he sucked in a breath through his nose to clear his head and properly answer.

"You said, _'hey you're right!'_ And offered him an audition?" Mick grinned as he stared lovingly back at Tommy's eyes.

"No, fucker!" Tommy laughed, and it was the most beautiful thing Mick had heard all fucking week. "I kicked him so hard in his nuts he started fuckin' _bleeding!"_ The younger man cracked up, slapping his knee in giddy excitement as he leaned back on the couch laughing loudly in his evil doings. Mick couldn't hold back his chuckle either as he stared down at him. Although it wasn't at Tommy's story, but instead at the sight and sound of how happy his drummer was.

"And _then_ you offered him an audition?" He giggled.

"Nah man," Tommy finally caught his breath and sat back up to suddenly lean heavily on Mick. He nuzzled his temple hard with his nose as his long arms wrapped tightly around him in a squeezing hug. _"I love you way too fuckin' much. You're not going anywhere,"_ He mumbled into Mick's hair as he nosed his way through to press a wet kiss on his neck. Mick laughed at the ambitious embrace and squirmed under the touch to put an arm around Tommy in return He tried his best to ignore the sharp pain in his lower spine as Tommy leaned all his weight on him until they both fell onto the cushions. Tommy mumbled something inaudible as he peppered kisses down Mick's neck until he reached the collar of his t-shirt.

 _"Look out old man, I'm gonna show you how much you're worth,"_ Tommy giggled as he stuck his tongue out to drag it up Mick's throat all the way to his jaw where he stopped to suck a quick kiss. "You're _perfect,_ motherfucker," He breathed in a hot moan against Mick's flesh as he did it again. Mick tilted his head back with a pleasured groan to allow the drummer more access to keep kissing him. His icey eyes fell shut as his hands rose to gently grip Tommy's surprisingly soft hair. "No one's home for the next few hours. You know what that means," Tommy growled deeply before pressing his teeth just right on Mick's chin to send shivers up the older man's back.

" _Mmmm_ ," Mick moaned quietly until Tommy released him from his love bite to let him speak. "You gonna make my night even better, drummer?" He cracked his eyelids open to gaze up at the excited man looking down at him. Tommy simply grinned with a thick kiss to Mick's lips.

It was a thing they had started doing only a few months ago. Tommy, at some point, had crawled into Mick's lap and deemed it _Property of Lee_. And Mick, at some point around the same time, decided to let him. It had gone from teasing remarks, to teasing touches, to kissing as a joke, to kissing for real, until one fateful night when Mick had gotten just drunk enough and Tommy just horny enough that the guitarist finally let the drummer plow him in bed. Mick had never expected Tommy to be so damn good at having sex with another man, but the things he did to Mick _still_ had him quivering. So they did it again just a few days later. And with that, Mick suddenly found himself in an impossible-to-lable relationship with Tommy that was apparently _so_ good, that Mick would easily chose to bring him to bed rather than any groupie begging at his feet.

It wasn't as hard to talk about as they expected it to be either- the two easily just found themselves admitting to all sorts of feelings on the spectrum of love. Mick loved Tommy, and Tommy loved Mick. Yeah, probably a little _too_ much when he was sober, and yeah, he took it a little too far when he was drunk. But they loved each other more than they'dever loved anyone else, and Mick wasn't sure if they could ever stop.

 _"Love you,"_ Tommy whispered suddenly against Mick's other ear as he kissed it's helix.

 _"Love you too,"_ Mick replied. He turned his head to return the kiss on Tommy's jaw.

"Gonna get you feeling so good, you'll still be shaking tomorrow," Tommy promised as he kissed Mick's temple. He licked a hot wet streak up Mick's cheek that earned a wide grin from the guitarist.

Five minutes later found the two completely naked on the couch with Mick's legs draped over Tommy's shoulders. The drummer quickly lathered his dripping dick up with the jar of coconut oil that Mick had innocently left on the coffee table long ago, hiding in plain sight for situations just like the one he currently found himself in. Tommy slid in easily after fingering the guitarist with all four digits, his cock twitching at the glorious moans rising from the older man's throat.

 _"Oh, fuck yeah,"_ Tommy gasped as Mick instinctively tightened around his huge member when he went in. Tommy lifted Mick's waist up off the couch with strong hands as he leaned forward to sink down to the hilt on the first thrust. _"Fuck, Mick,"_ he breathed to the ceiling while he repeated the motion. Mick groaned with blushing cheeks at such praise coming from a man who would usually never get enough sex and had probably already slept with more women than Mick ever would. His back was killing him in the straining position, but his legs tightened their hold to try and even out the weight. With a cock like Tommy's up his ass, it was pretty easy to ignore the chronic pain in his hips that were being owned by his bandmate. Tommy moved a hand to hastily grab Mick's penis and slowly pump it along with his own thrusts.

That was another thing Mick noticed- Tommy never took things slow for _anyone,_ except for him. And while he wanted to ask if it was because he thought Mick was fragile, or because he was another man, he never got around to it because it just felt too goddamn _good_. He didn't want to risk making his drummer insecure and going back to his original ways of jack hammering the life out of Mick like he did everyone else. They had tried that idiotic speed once, maybe the second or third time they'ed fucked and Tommy automatically did what he was always used to. But it hurt Mick more than made him feel good. As much as he'd tried to hide it and pretend his gasps of pain were actually ones of pleasure, Tommy quickly caught on. And when he changed the pace and painted a fucking picture in Mick's guts, they never went back. He cherished Tommy's slow love making- it was something fucking _spectacular_ in his opinion. Quick sex, he decided not long after he had the revelation, was for bitches who didn't care. And Tommy and Mick- they fucking _cared_.

Tommy thrusted into Mick a little quicker as he found an even pace and planted one hand on the couch next to Mick's head, moving the other away from his dripping member to softly grip the pale thigh against his chest.

 _"Love you so much,"_ Tommy moaned again. He suddenly looked into Mick's bright eyes, and the emotion swarming in them was enough to make Mick forget all about the burning pain in his bones.

 _"S-Say it again,"_ Mick grunted.

"I love you," Tommy bit his lip so hard with such a wide smile Mick prepared to see blood.

 _"And-d that, other thing-"_ Mick choked when Tommy came dangerously close to touching his prostate. His hands shot up to grip Tommy's shoulders in an iron grasp, nails digging into his tan flesh.

" _You're so fucking good, old man,"_ Tommy giggled with a wicked tone. He knew what Mick was asking because he asked for it every time. _"So much better than anyone else, you know just what to do,"_ Tommy paused for a second to bend all the way down and suck a quick hickey on Micks neck. The guitarist gasped loudly and yanked with two fists on Tommy's long hair as teeth marked his flesh. His hips wiggled at the lost motions against the drummer's waist, quickly rewarded with a few more small thrusts. Tommy growled as he pulled away with a river of drool falling from his flushed lips. He moved the hand from the couch to swipe it away before immediately returning it to support his body as he got back to work fucking his guitarist. The other hand on Mick's thigh tightened it's grip as Tommy sped up, promising bruises as a reminder of who's dick owned him.

" _You're such a gorgeous motherfucker."_ He continued his praise between panted breaths. "Anyone ever talks shit about you again, I'll fucking _kill_ them. And then fuck you right next to the body," Tommy giggled along with Mick at the joke that held just a little bit of seriousness. He raised his hips ever so slightly against Mick to adjust his position, and that's when he hit Mick's most favorite spot.

The guitar player choked on a wet gasp and withered beneath Tommy as he railed his prostate over and over. Tommy was laughing like a lovesick maniac as he went even harder bordering on his famous style at the reaction Mick was giving him. He trusted like a rabbit on speed into the older man with two hands nearly tearing the couch on either side of Mick's head.

"You like that shit? Of course you do, you always like everything I do, don't you?" Mick had no idea how Tommy could form such hot words in the middle of sex like that, but he did his best to answer.

 _"Y-Yes, f-fuck, Tommy, hmphff-"_ The words stuttered and got lost in his throat as Mick's entire body contracted against a building orgasm he knew would be his biggest one in a long while. His dark bangs stuck to his forehead in the layer of sweat that quickly coated his skin. His nails scratched at Tommy's toned back so hard he was worried he'd drawn blood, but couldn't stop himself from doing again. Mick's thighs clenched with all their might once more when another shockwave of pleasure hit him at his deepest core.

 _"Come on old man, give it to me-"_ Tommy panted as he moved faster. He tightly gripped Mick's bare waist just under his ribs with his one hand, and it was then that Mick lost it all and came between them.

His orgasm rocked his body in violent shivers that nearly messed up Tommy's rhythm as he shot his load against the drummer's stomach with bucking hips. He bit back a scream so hard he busted the skin of his lip, which made Tommy laugh again. His hips couldn't stop themselves form humping against his bandmate's as they rode out the forceful climax. They rocked and rolled from side to side so hard as Mick squirmed in pleasure that Tommy had to bend themselves a little more to keep him steady. His cum stuck to the drummer's skin for a moment before dripping down onto Mick's abdomen.

 _"Fuck,"_ Mick cried out through a clenched jaw as his head tossed back. He managed to still and catch his breath for a moment just as Tommy finished inside him, filling him up with his hot warmth and pumping it in deep inside with the last few thrusts.

 _"S-Shit, motherfucker, you're perfect-"_ Tommy stammered when he ceased his actions and held Mick still in the bent position under him. "You're the only one that can get me all kinds of fucked up, babe." He sucked in a sharp breath. Mick moaned beneath him, and it was one of the sexist sounds Tommy had ever had the pleasure to hear. "Fuck, I love your noises... You never talk enough, _always so quiet."_ He carefully lowered himself down to lick into a kiss on Mick's cheek. "You may act all polite n' shit around everyone else, but I know what makes you _scream_ ," He growled before leaning back up. Mick pouted up at him with those ocean eyes that were too fucked to focus. Tommy's rock hard dick remained buried in his guitarist for what he was hoping would happen next.

"Hey, do you still do that thing where-" Tommy began his out of breath question but was cut off when another orgasm hit Mick hard. The older man arched his aching back against Tommy's body as he came again with an empty load twitching in his cock and balls. His muscles contracted so hard that his ribs exposed themselves under his perfect skin and his gorgeous moan was lost in his throat. " _Haha_ , _yes! Fuck_ _yeah!"_ Tommy cheered loudly and trusted a few more times to ride Mick through it. "I fucking _love_ _it_ when you do that shit! Lets me know I did a good job, huh?" He knew Mick was far too gone to even process his remark, but praised him anyway. Mick sure as hell deserved it. "I'll be honest baby, I thought that was just a chick thing until I met you. I always lie and tell the guys that it was some rando girl I got with that could come twice," He laughed to himself while Mick laid ruined beneath him catching his breath and clearing his vision.

 _"Hnngg, m-mmm,"_ He groaned beneath Tommy. Mick didn't always orgasm twice, but when he did he tried to not move for a good minute afterwards. He'd learned that lesson the hard way the last time he was fucked by a good looking guy, and ended up coming four times in a row within three minutes when the dude kept giving it to him. He had been so exhausted and overstimulated that even after his partner had pulled out, he came one more fucking time five seconds after that. He had also learned that orgasms were really only fun the first two times.

 _"Fuck, baby,"_ Tommy's aroused voice of approval wasn't helping his case as Mick could feel the threatening tingle make it's way up his ass again.

 _"T-Tommy-"_ He choked out. He was trying to ask him to pull out, but every bone and muscle in his body was spent and it came out like a beg. He was so exhausted, he worried that if he orgasmed one more time he might just pass the fuck out right on the couch. _Well, at least his back felt like pudding,_ _he thought._

 _"Again?"_ The hope in Tommy's voice was dooming the guitarist. Mick opened his mouth to say no- but... _fuck_ , when he looked in Tommy's eyes and realized his drummer was still hard as a rock inside him, prepared to go at it again- he couldn't deny his baby boy anything.

One nod from his limp head was all it took.

Tommy grinned like a hyena as he pulled out only halfway to gently unhook Mick's legs from his body and roll him over, laying his lover flat on his stomach. Mick inhaled at the painful release of his tense spine, but all thoughts of pain were quickly derailed when that monster cock filled him up yet again before he could even blink. Tommy began hammering away at his ass once more, cackling a wild laugh of excitement as he blissfully ruined Mick. He seemed to have enough sense left to realize what he was asking of the older man, however, and placed a gentle hand on Mick's cheek to rub his fingers over his closed eyes, brushing those wet bangs from his face. It made Mick's innards twist.

 _"You're so good to me,"_ Tommy whispered to his bandmate. _"Always giving me what I want. I love seeing you come so much, you're a fucking miracle,"_ he giggled. The hand on Mick's face moved to grip a fistful of his black hair, but didn't dare yank back. He instead twisted it in his fingers and pulled ever so slightly upwards, just enough for the perfect amount of pain that Mick never admitted out loud to liking so much. It earned a beautifully exhausted toothy grin from the older man, topped off with a deep sexy moan. Mick counted down the quick seconds through the fog in his brain for his rising orgasm to start knocking at his dick yet again.

And just like that, he was coming just as hard as before. His pale legs stretched out behind him, ass raised like a dog in heat as it just couldn't stop begging for more. This time he did manage to release a decent amount of cum that fell in thick strings down his chest onto the couch, impressing Tommy as well when the drummer snarled in excitement at the sight. The mess simply added to the collection of fluids constantly gathering on the furniture, anyhow. Mick growled deep in his chest against the force of his third climax, quivering until his body had nothing left to give under the lanky body of his drummer.

Tommy came for a second time as well inside of Mick. He gasped dramatically as he rode out his load so hard that Mick could feel the cum leaking back out and down his balls. Mick didn't remember Tommy stopping his movements and placing his limp body down gently on the sofa again, however. Or sliding his softening cock out and bringing half his fillings with it. He was pretty sure he had blacked out for at least a minute, while Tommy managed to use his never ending strength to roll the guitarist onto his back again.

Tommy watched Mick's limp form for a few seconds as he slowly stroked the man's half hard dick once, gathering up the fluids between his fingers. He tongued his hand clean, reveling in the taste of his guitarist. He knew Mick could become way too easily stimulated again, but decided to take advantage of the moment while he was passed out and bent down to drag his tongue from the base of his cock all the way to the tip. He did it again, this time starting at Mick's balls, and swallowed everything his tongue could catch.

 _"Mmph, Tommy-"_ Mick stirred beneath him and tried to move his bent legs. Tommy softly massaged his thighs light enough to ease him into stretching them out on either side of the drummer to relax.

 _"Shhhh, relax baby,"_ he whispered. Mick listened and sucked in a much needed sigh to clear his head. "Fuck, Mick, you did fuckin' _awesome_ ," Tommy spoke softly as he stalked his way up Mick's naked form on all fours to loom above him. Mick opened his heavy eyes to gaze at Tommy, managing a small smile.

 _"Thanks T-Bone..."_ he breathed. It sent sparks to Tommy's pelvis. But while he could easily go again, he bit back the urge, knowing Mick was done.

" _Proud of you."_ He stated quietly. He bent his arms to bring his head down to kiss Mick meaningfully on the lips. Mick grinned into it with a deep chuckle that made Tommy pull away. "What?" He couldn't help but giggle along with him.

 _"Nothing,"_ Mick lied with a grin so gorgeous Tommy felt his heart leap. He kissed him again. He peppered his lips along Mick's jaw until they reached his ear lobe, where there they lingered against his hot skin for a few more seconds. Tommy finally yawned loudly with a cat-like stretch that rolled his whole body, and glanced down between Mick's legs to make sure he was ready for those perfect post-sex cuddles he just _had_ to have with the older man. He sunk his body down to drape himself over Mick's, finding home with his face tucked away in the crook of Mick's neck buried in his thick hair. Their legs tangled together and Mick somehow found enough strength to idly rub his toes against Tommy's foot. He could feel the drummer grin against his neck.

 _"Love you Mick,"_ Tommy whispered from the verge of sleep.

 _"Love you t-"_ But before Mick could return the vow, his spine suddenly decided that would be the _perfect_ time to seize up and send fire igniting in his entire skeleton. _"Fuck!"_ He choked out and jumped under Tommy's body, gripping the drummer in a painful hold that wasn't the pleasant kind in any way.

"Mick?" Tommy shot up off of him in an instant as Mick laid in agony, pulling his legs up instinctively but getting them caught on Tommy's body where the drummer hovered over his thighs in confusion. "What's wrong!?" He held Mick's face still with one hand as the guitarist clenched his jaw to miserably try and stop the cry of pain from escaping him. It was such a terrible sound that Tommy froze in disbelief for a moment as Mick withered in on himself. "Fuck, did I hurt you!?" He cried out, putting a second hand on Mick's other cheek.

Mick made another strangled groan as he rolled to his side between Tommy's legs to bend his back forward.

 _"M' fuckin-"_ he couldn't finish the explanation as the pain in his bones burned too bad to even breathe. Black spots danced in his vision and Mick started to panic. " _My back-_ " he finally pushed the words out between a clenched jaw. The vertebrae of his spine felt like a thousand red hot needles were being driven through them, oozing lava instead of blood that pooled in his hips.

 _"Fuck!"_ Tommy cried out and was off Mick like he suddenly turned to fire benathe him. And he very much may as well have, with how the older man was currently feeling.

Mick tried to breathe but it appeared that any movement made those hot irons all but break through his skin.

So he was forced to remain frozen in his fetal position, holding his breath and allowing the flare up to pass. He wished he cold open his mouth and tell Tommy to just calm down, he'd be okay- the poor kid was freaking the fuck out pacing the couch next to him saying something Mick couldn't make out through he ringing in his ears. This had happened before. But while it was nothing new, it never got any easier.

He stayed like that for five minutes until Tommy had finally burned out and sat on the filthy floor a foot away from Mick, staring on with wide eyes full of fear. Mick crossed his arms over his chest and curled in on himself more until finally the pain started to go away. He was sweating hard again with his thick hair hanging over his face, making him appear to Tommy like a dead body curled up after losing the last bit of life.

 _"Mick?"_ The first word Mick could make out and comprehend as the pain eventually died down to it's usual aching.

 _"M... 'M okay,"_ Mick whispered. His vision and lungs took their time to get working properly again.

"Fuck, are you sure!?" Tommy sounded like he was crying. Mick hoped he wasn't... He suddenly remembered that Tommy hadn't really seen this side of him before. He'd never been around for a moment of Mick's disease wreaking havoc and reminding the world that it was still there.

He managed to lift his head to peer up at Tommy's teary puppy eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry, it just..." He didn't want to finish, so he settled for a painful shrug with his free shoulder.

Tommy swallowed and shifted in his position on the floor as he looked over Mick's curled up body.

"Fuck, I'm sorry... Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore. I didnt realize how bad your back was-"

"No!" Mick cried out softly, snapping Tommy's tormented thoughts away. "No, it's not you Tommy, it just does this when I do stupid shit- I mean, _you're_ not stupid, I'm just saying like when I forget, and... _fuck_ , you know what I mean. Just don't be upset, okay?" Mick forced himself to sit up, Tommy immediately grabbing his sides to help him. The drummer seemed apprehensive about Mick's insistent pleas as he sat back on the couch a respectable distance away from him. Mick didn't like that, he realized. He missed Tommy pressing his thigh and shoulder right against him and ignoring all rules of personal space. Mick felt like a freak when Tommy didn't want to touch him... He tried to scoot over to do it himself, but his hips met invisible daggers and he was forced to abandon the plan. _"Please don't be upset,"_ Mick repeated desperately. He was terrified that his rotten fucking disease would finally chase away the only real love he'd ever known.

"I'm not," Tommy's eyes didn't match the comforting tone his voice defensively put on.

Mick felt tears crawling under his eyes and quickly turned his head away to try and keep them at bay. He waited for Tommy to stand up, silently regret his choice of a partner after all, and walk away without another word. _Fuck_ , Mick was such a fool sometimes! What was he thinking, getting with the sexiest man in all of L.A. as if he could stand a chance!? He was an old, crippled, washed up man and if it weren't for his guitar he'd just be rotting in the streets.

"Mick..." The hand on his shoulder felt much too gentle. Why was Tommy wasting his time? He could just skip out on Mick, pretend nothing had ever happened, and go down the street to pick up a hot chick who would actually keep up with the drummer. Or maybe hook up with Nikki again- Mick overheard him bragging last year about how the bass player had finally went down on him one night after a show, and the _things_ he described that they did... Mick knew he could never do that shit for the younger man. _"Baby, look at me."_ Tommy whispered with a soothing stroke down Mick's arm. "Is there anything I can do?" He whimpered when Mick refused to move his head. Those cursed fucking tears currently soaking his eyes had to dry up first.

 _"Just... Stay with me?"_ Mick finally sighed after a few silent seconds, and turned to face him. He felt his heart shatter at the wounded look in his drummer's big doe eyes. _"'M sorry,"_ Mick's apology slipped out. He had no idea what else to say to a look so pained that was caused by his damn back problems. He was embarrassed, and quite frankly just wanted to curl up in Tommy's lap and beg for forgiveness.

"For what? I'm the one who's sorry," Tommy was suddenly cupping his cheeks and it was almost too much for the guitarist to handle without breaking down. "I didn't mean to hurt you Mick," He pressed a loving kiss to Mick's tightly drawn lips. Mick warily kissed him back, raising a hand to attentively stroke it through Tommy's wild hair.

 _"You didn't,"_ Mick breathed against his chin before placing a quick kiss there. _"It's not your fault, baby boy."_ He kissed Tommy's chin again. The drummer squirmed slightly at the intimate nickname Mick rarely used.

"Y-You sure?" He stuttered a bit as he held back from tackling Mick with all the passionate love he had to prove to him.

"Of course. I love you so much Tommy, never feel at fault for what's wrong with me..." Mick kissed him for real that time with another hand stroking Tommy's defined jaw.

 _"Nothing's wrong with you Mick..."_ Tommy whispered when they parted. He rested his forehead against Mick's as he closed his eyes and just breathed in his scent. His long fingers massaged his guitarist's arms gently, feeling every detail of his warm skin as they worked their way down to play with his hands. He pressed his lips softly between Mick's eyebrows. "Earth's gravity is just too strong for an alien like you, right?" he lightheartedly giggled with another peck to his temple. The sweet sound was enough to strike a huge grin up on Mick's mouth, exposing his teeth.

 _"Well, when you put it like that..."_ He laughed and kissed Tommy's cheek.

 _"Fuck, you're beautiful,"_ Tommy exclaimed as he attacked Mick's mouth again with sloppy kisses. "Fuck all them hoes that don't want you. More for me," He pulled away with a wet pop and suddenly licked a thick stroke up Mick's throat.

"But I don't wanna fuck them, I just wanna fuck you," Mick joked back.

" _Well fuckin' good old man, cause you're all mine,"_ Tommy ducked his head once more to drag his teeth and tongue from Mick's jawline to his collarbone. The guitarist shivered under the touch, and gripped Tommy's bare waist as he did it again. His back still fucking hurt, but Tommy always knew just how to take the pain away.

 _"Thank you,"_ He accidentally spoke outloud in a breathy moan with two hands gripping Tommy's mane.

"For what?" Tommy rose his head to look Mick in the eyes.

Mick thought for a moment on how to answer such an important question. So much to say, and so little time in their harsh world to say it.

"For everything. Just being here. Loving me. Letting me love you. Being a fucking maniac who is way too positive and caring. For never letting me down. Always kicking my ass in the studio. And especially for treating better than any other human being on the planet has ever treated me," he admitted sheepishly. He attacked Tommy's exposed neck with small, quick kisses.

Tommy laughed and squirmed under the touch, wrapping his arms gingerly around Mick as the guitarist stood up to bend him back to lay on the couch. Tommy moaned softly as Mick drapped himself over Tommy's naked, gorgeous body, sucking a new hickey on the perfect skin over his jugular. Tommy moaned in approval and dragged his nails lightly over Mick's ass, causing the guitarist to jump slightly and roll his hips.

 _"Fuck,"_ Mick gasped as he slid down from his position atop Tommy to lay next to him, holding him close with intertwined arms and legs. As much as he wished he could make up for his interruption and give Tommy one more round, his bones just hurt too damn much. He bit his cheek as he stiffly found a comfortable spot against the younger's naked body.

"Hey." Tommy spoke suddenly after a few moments of silence that gave sleep a chance to tug at Mick's exhausted brain.

 _"Hmm?"_ Mick hummed somewhere from the atmosphere of consciousness.

 _"I love you, Mick..."_ Tommy whispered. A skinny hand was suddenly holding Mick's head, burying its fingers in his dark hair. Mick couldn't see his face from his hiding spot tucked under the drummer's chin, but he was pretty sure Tommy was being as serious as Tommy Lee could be. "And don't ever fuckin' think you're not as good as the rest of us. Or that you don't deserve love because you think you're fucked up. If anything, you're better than _all_ of us. Better than everyone in the whole fuckin' _world_ , actually. I look up to you so much man, I don't know how you stay so strong through all this shit..." Tommy moved his other hand to wipe his face, and Mick hoped he wasn't crying. The tears he'd kept back earlier suddenly returned, and Mick couldn't stop them this time as one rolled down his cheek and disappeared into their nest of hair.

He parted his lips ever so slightly to say something back, but closed them. No words on Earth could ever express to Tommy just how much Mick loved him. So he decided that tomorrow, he would get with Nikki and write a song about it.

He stroked a hand slowly up Tommy's skinny gut and visible ribs, wishing he had a million dollars to his name so he could buy his drummer a mansion and all the food, drugs, and cars in the world. _Maybe one day he could..._

They fell asleep together some time in the deep night after that. Their world may be hell, and they may have to fight every day just to get by- but they had each other. Mick had found his family. A family that really cared, and didn't see him as just a waste-away they could suck a few good songs out of. He made sure to remind them all of it as soon as he woke up. Especially Tommy.


End file.
